The Aftermath
by Cam is for Camera
Summary: "He walked alone, oblivious to his surroundings, yet he didn't budge. He looked at the invisible floor, with something crossing his face. Was it sadness? Was it guilt? It couldn't be guilt, for all he had done for us; I'm the one who should be feeling guilty". An interpretation of the very ending of Mother 3.


It's amazing how one misunderstanding, one problem, one person, can change the lives of thousands. How it can change the fate of our world. How it can ruin my life.

It was only three years ago when we had visited Mom's old house in the mountains. The luscious, beautiful mountains, home to the sweet Dragos. A simple wooden house, standing in the middle of a field covered in sunflowers, waiting to be submerged in their golden glory. They were her favorites; she would always come in with a sunflower in hand. Once they represented happiness; now they make me grieve the loss of her.

She has been gone during those three years. I never expected her return, but in a field of endless sunflowers I saw her, leading my dog and I to safety, even if it looked like death to us.

That's what she did to my brother, my look-alike who had been brainwashed by a ruthless force. She comforted him, told him everything would be alright as he attempted to murder me; it was his only goal. His only goal before his existence as a slave became useless. His death was inevitable.

It came to the point where he began to slowly and painfully remember what he had done, and soon remembered who I was: his little twin brother, who seems like a crybaby to most. He remembered right from wrong, and saw what he had done. He knew what he had to do, and gave into the tempting arms of death.

Maybe I was a crybaby, a dependent child who couldn't take his firsts steps into reality without the help of someone else. Maybe I would have cried by being teased by others, or by getting an accidental scratch, but not anymore; not after what had happened. The tears had stopped long ago, and as much as I wanted to burst when his corpse gave its final thanks, they never came.

All this time, people never truly understood me, why I was so sensitive, and why I went against their ways. They would always comment about how I was always a weakling, that I should give up and get a happy box; to become one of them. But I had known better. I knew the consequences of giving in like I would have in the past, and it was a trait I had to get rid of to even lend one hand in the becoming of our new world.

It doesn't matter what he had originally planned to make of our world; it only took a slight pull of the radiant needle that had lied in front of me to make all his work a waste. Most would consider it a nuisance, now that our world has been purified, but I consider his actions to cause the biggest loss I have ever experienced.

In a void, filled with nothing but darkness, everything that had happened through the past three years replayed over in head: The rampage of the Drago that had cost my mother's life, the disappearance of my brother, the joining of Osohe's Princess, a theif, my dog and I. It all ended with finding out the man pulling the needles was my brother all along. They were memories that would stick with me forever, even if all I want to do is forget.

We may be stuck here for good, but it was much better than our previous situation. Some of the survivors cursed out the Dark Dragon for leaving us with nothing, but I'm grateful to even be alive. I'm thankful that my friends and what is left of my family are here with me, to share the feeling of confusion and anxiety. We share a thick silence, but who can blame them? After what has happened, no words are needed to express how we feel.

But in the midst of confusion and depression, he appeared. The one who made it all possible, the one who had witnessed everything, the one who lead me to this ending.

He walked alone, oblivious to his surroundings, yet he didn't budge. He looked at the invisible floor, with something crossing his face. Was it sadness? Was it guilt? It couldn't be guilt, for all he had done for us; I'm the one who should be feeling guilty.

Some of the people went up to talk to him, to express their thanks. Despite us not being able to see him until now, we knew who he was, and what he had done.

He continued walking, occasionally bumping into miscellaneous things. I believe I saw him pick up a doorknob.

I went up to him and began speaking.

"Oh, hi!"

He looked at me with a mixed glance. Looking more into it, he seemed to begin smiling.

I continued, "Thanks. I feel so utterly, incredibly thankful for everything you've done."

I advanced towards him once more, giving a grateful grin.

"Thanks for everything."

He confidently gave a full, generous smile.

"I wish we could always be together."

He looked at the ground, guilt swarming his face. I began feeling as if I said something wrong.

I lowered my voice, "We just met," my throat tightened, "And now we have to say goodbye."

He began backing away.

"All the people of this world are saved, thanks to you," I repeated myself, "Thank you."

He stopped in his tracks. His curious glance met mine.

I giggled, "That was fun, right?" I tried to lighten the mood. He didn't to help us, yet he did. There's nothing he should be ashamed of. He should be happy with his- no, our outcome. He should be happy to see us like this.

He understood, hence he nodded and departed.

I took no time in responding, "Let's meet again sometime!" all of my anxiety had left, "We can meet as many times as we want!"

He continued his way through the darkness.

I hesitantly waved, "Bye!"

He didn't stop.

"Oh! What's the world there like?" I didn't stop myself from asking. After all we've been through; I had never considered what his life was like, "It looks like things will work out here, but what about your world? Will it be alright?"

He shrugged.

"I pray the other is good to you," his world was no worry of mine, but showing my concerns was the least I could do. I can only wish for the best.

His appearance was now vague.

"Thanks," I repeated myself; I couldn't express myself enough, not within this amount of time.

He had nearly disappeared.

"Goodbye."

The darkness began absorbing him.

My voice choked, "Goodbye…"

His body was no more.

I lifted my head up, "Goodbye!" I continued, "Thanks so much!"

No response from the distance.

"Come back sometime!"

Silence.

"Thanks for everything."

Footsteps continued to echo, and I raced after them, "Wait! We'll meet again sometime, right?"

The footsteps ceased.

"Don't forget us."

I could make out his face once more.

"We sure had a lot of fun, didn't we?"

He continued his previous path in the distance, waving his hand in approval.

I was at a loss of words. I felt as if I was finished, that there was nothing left to accomplish. I stood there waiting for his body to be completely submerged into the black.

I muttered one last time, "Thanks…"

For the first time in three years, I felt an overwhelming sadness that caused a tear to escape.


End file.
